


pull me in a circle

by perilousgard



Series: run to you [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Car Sex, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Joyce is a mess, Pining, it's mutual but hopper doesn't know that, yes I went there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-19 14:57:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20329525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perilousgard/pseuds/perilousgard
Summary: "Sorry," was the first thing she said, cigarette held tight in her fingers. Smoke floated from her mouth into the frosty night air. As he looked at her, questions forming again on the tip of his tongue, she suddenly stepped forward and caught his mouth with hers.---Joyce shows up Hopper's door two weeks after that first phone call.





	pull me in a circle

**Author's Note:**

> Looks like this will be a little series after all, since I wrote this almost immediately after finishing the last one. Title is from "Circles," by Vanic & Machineheart, which is another song that has nothing to do with Jopper, but oh well. Enjoy!

Morning came too soon for Hopper. 

He'd fallen asleep with Joyce nestled against his chest, her hair tickling her cheek, and he'd felt a calmness inside of him that he hadn't felt for a long time - maybe since things between him and Diane were still good. He slept like a baby, his arms wrapped around her waist, and it seemed like he'd only just drifted off when Joyce was shaking him awake again.

"It's five forty-five," she whispered, as he slowly opened his eyes. The room was still dark, and he could just barely make out her features. Her hair was mussed and she'd pulled a t-shirt on, but even in the dark he could tell she wasn't wear a bra. He pushed down the spike of arousal that shot through him. "The kids'll be up soon, Hop."

"Right, right." Still only half-awake, he sat up and stretched, long and hard, before stumbling out of bed to find his clothes. She watched him, sheets still pulled up to her waist, looking small and delicate in a way she definitely was not. Joyce Byers, delicate. Yeah, right. 

As soon as he had his pants up around his waist, Joyce moved out of bed, tugging the t-shirt down over her thighs. It barely covered her underwear. He let his hand graze her waist as she came near him. "Listen, Joyce -"

"You've gotta go, Hop." She opened the door to her room, and he immediately felt a rush of cooler air, as if her bedroom had been holding all the heat in the house. 

"What, no breakfast in bed?" he joked, weakly, even as he allowed her to prod him down the hall. 

She didn't say anything, only opened the front door. He stepped out onto the porch automatically, but turned before she could close it, and lifted a hand to her cheek. She only stared at him as he brushed some of the flyaway hairs out of her eyes. 

"Call me, okay?" he said, in lieu of holding her up. "Call me, Joyce."

She bit her lip, said nothing, and gently closed the door. 

Well, at least she didn't slam it in his face.

-

He didn't hear from her for almost two weeks. It was about what Hopper had expected, but it still made him reach for an extra beer in the evenings. (He'd cut way back on alcohol since El, of course, so he tried to stick to one beer a night.) He took the route through the middle of town to get to the station, which took him right past Joyce's store every day, and every day he resisted the urge to stop and go in. He would force himself to be patient, let Joyce come to him.

And she did, thirteen days later, when she showed up at his house in the middle of the night.

Unlike the last time she had contacted him, Hopper was not asleep. He had been kept late at the station, booking a group of teenagers who had tried to rob a convenience store, and had only arrived back home half an hour ago. He'd gone into El's room to kiss the top of her head and tell her goodnight, even though she was fast asleep. He had gotten a brief shower to scrub off the day. And he was in the process of making himself a ham sandwich when Joyce knocked on his door. 

She looked even more rumpled than the last time he saw her, which was after she had woken up from their night together.

"Sorry," was the first thing she said, cigarette held tight in her fingers. Smoke floated from her mouth into the frosty night air. As he looked at her, questions forming again on the tip of his tongue, she suddenly stepped forward and caught his mouth with hers, her cold hands on his cheeks. She tasted like smokes. He pulled her closer, into the warm glow of the cabin, and the door closed behind them.

They stood in the doorway for a moment, still kissing, Hopper still holding onto the bottle of milk he'd gotten from the fridge. She was so cold; why was she so cold? He ran his hands over her arms, along her sides, trying to warm her up. She huddled closer, as though seeking his warmth.

As much as he didn't want to, he pulled back. "Joyce..."

"Hop, don't," she interjected. "Just - please, I know I'm asking a lot from you. But please, can we not talk about it?"

Something inside of him retaliated at that comment, and wanted to lash out in anger. But instead he found himself nodding, because she was in his arms, and she was kissing him again, and he didn't want her to leave.

"El's here," he couldn't help mumbling, as her fingers found his shirt buttons. "Not to...ruin the mood, y'know."

Joyce nodded. "Is she a heavy sleeper?"

"Uh, not often." Never, really. "She has nightmares. Sometimes comes into my room. Not so much anymore, though. And uh...my room doesn't have a door."

She swore under her breath. "Right. I should just - I should go."

He bit his lip. _Don't say it, Hop; are you really that desperate?_

Yes, he was.

"My, um. My truck has, y'know. Pretty good heating," he said haltingly, rubbing the back of his neck. "We could, uh..."

He startled when she snorted with laughter. "Hop, are you suggesting we have sex in your car like teenagers?"

"Well, yeah, that is what I'm suggesting," he replied, smiling a little. He hadn't heard her laugh in weeks. "Unless you have a better idea?"

She threw up her hands. "This is all insane, anyway. Lead the way, Chief."

He wasn't lying - the truck did have a good heating system, but it took a few minutes to warm up. Joyce shivered as Hopper put down the back seat, so that they'd be a little more comfortable. He pulled her close again, kissing her gently, not wanting to break the mood. She rested her hands on his chest, climbing into his lap, and the rush of warmth that filled Hopper had nothing to do with the heat filtering through the truck. He shifted one hand to her ass, holding her there, pleased when she made a small sound of pleasure against his mouth.

They didn't even bother getting fully undressed this time. Joyce got her pants off, and Hopper's shirt was opened so that she could run her hands over his chest, but Joyce's pace became a bit more frantic as they went along. She unbuckled his pants enough to pull him out of his briefs, her hand a few times over his cock - enough to make him groan and harden impossibly more - before shifting to press him against her entrance. His hands shot to her hips, wanting to stop her; he wasn't wearing a condom this time. But she hushed him with a kiss, shifting again and then lowering herself onto him. Hopper thought his brain might short-circuit from the jolt of pleasure that ran through him.

After that, their bodies took over and there was no more thinking. Hopper's hips thrust up in time with Joyce's movements, his mouth catching her moans and gasps. She was louder now, he noticed, perhaps because they didn't really need to worry about being overheard. He ran his hands up her sides, cupped her breasts in his hands, ran his thumbs across her nipples over her bra. She arched her back, hands clutching at his shoulders, and he swore her fingers would leave marks. Hopper grunted and pressed his face against her neck, nibbling at the skin there. He could mark her, too, somewhere that would be easy for her to hide. 

He didn't know she was approaching her orgasm until she shuddered around him, and the feeling of it was too much for him. He pulled out of her in time to spill onto her stomach with a groan, and she pressed her forehead to his shoulder, breathing hard.

The windows of the truck were foggy.

"I shouldn't stay," she said after awhile, still curled in his lap. He kissed her forehead, unable to help himself. He could have guessed she wouldn't want to spend the night in his truck.

"You didn't call me," he said, the words escaping his mouth before he could stop them.

"Yeah, I...I'm sorry." She pulled her pants and jacket back on, already fumbling for another cigarette from her pocket. "I'll, um...I'll talk to you later, okay, Hop?"

"Yeah." He buttoned his shirt against the cold as she opened the truck door and slid out. She was too far away to kiss. "Sure, Joyce."

He was a weak man.


End file.
